He misses her now
Misses her always
Waking, he sees her by the window
Sleeping, he swims with her in the sea
He says a name not unlike any other name
Debbie or Nancy or Tina . . .
It’s always the same woman under the name
The biological imperatives speak through him
He channels billions of generations
Salmon swimming against the current
Longing to die in the embrace of procreation
“When is it done?”
He turns from the window
“When do I stop feeling this pain?
This thorn in my eye?”
I would that I had an answer